


Halloween Special

by we_the_hollow



Series: living like we're renegades: Summer AU [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Halloween Special, Multi, heavy on the Mchaleinski, light on the Scallison and Sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 03:25:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5114222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_the_hollow/pseuds/we_the_hollow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I mean...does this need a summary?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halloween Special

"No." He says, tone adamant, face schooled into the scowliest of scowls. He looks about as threatening as a kitten, with his squinty eyes and his lips curling over his teeth.

"Aw come on Der," Scott tries, shoulders slumping and lips pursed.

They've been trying to break Derek for the past hour. It's definitely working. Derek may be a stubborn, scowly, grumpy little shit, but Scott and Stiles are nothing if not persistent. And brilliant at breaking Derek in all the best ways.

The rest of the pack however, left twenty five minutes ago.

"Yeeeah come on big guy," Stiles adds, "for me?" He bites his bottom lip and looks over at Derek through his lashes, eyes all soft and a little watery. He's doing this on purpose, playing on the things he knows drive Derek insane.

"No. Absofuckinlutely not. I'd rather wear the cape," Derek crosses his arms over his chest and Stiles' shoulders sag as he heaves out a dramatic breath, dropping the act in an instant.

"But Derek! Why?" he whines. Scott's brows knit together, looking artfully mournful. The pair of them are absolutely ridiculous.

"The pair of you are absolutely ridiculous. And I want to wear the cape," he demands, eyebrows shooting up and daring Stiles to continue battling against him.

"Well I'm wearing the cape. So," Of course. Of course he won't give up.

"But I like the cape," Derek replies petulantly. He's one step away from puppy eyes and a pout. His own little show for Stiles.

This is what it's come to?

Bringing out something as tried and tested as The Scott McCall Face, that nobody has yet been able to successfully replicate? Gods help him.

"I know you do but you're not wearing it,"

"Well. Then why can't I wear Scott's instead?" And Stiles' heartbeat trips at that, does a double backflip before a wave of arousal washes over Derek, filling his nose for all of a second before Stiles makes a conscious effort to close his mouth and step back a little. At least he has the decency to seem a little embarrassed, Derek thinks, as he watches a flush appear on the younger boys cheeks.

"Scott's outfit won't fit you," Stiles tries, his voice an octave higher. He clears his throat and Scott barely holds back a snort.

Stiles just glares at him. "So? Nobody's costume fits them. In case you hadn't noticed." He thinks specifically of Lydia's Poison Ivy costume and how it most definitely does fit her.

"God, Derek, just get the costume on!"

"Please?" says Scott.

It's been almost an hour now and neither boy shows any sign of budging. He hates them both.

"I hate you both," he replies, before stomping into the bedroom to change with a smirk on his face that he hopes neither of them sees.

 

 

-

 

"I still hate you two, y'know?"

"Sure, whatever you say Big Guy. We hate you too, don't worry." Stiles says, patting his shoulder and swinging his little pumpkin bag.

"You also know nobody is actually gonna give any of us candy, right?"

"Oh they will. Just you wait. We've got a plan haven't we Scotty?"

Scott, having brought out a little "Starter Candy" pulls a lollipop from his lips with an obscene _pop,_  before looking sideways at them both, "Yeah, we got a plan," and the grin that splits across his face scares Derek.

They're up to something.

Eight doors and three angry neighbours later, they each have a small handful of candy and deflated egos.

Stiles was sure it would work.Scott was sure too.Derek was right to be highly sceptical.

"You probably should have stopped at-"

"Yeah,"

"And I don't think telling him-"

"Nope,"

"Definitely shouldn't have-"

"God I know. Let's just get to the club? I need a pick-me-up,"

 

-

 

Stiles' mood instantly picks up when they get to the club. Allison is the first to greet them, with a rib crushing hug for both Derek and Stiles and a filthy kiss for Scott. She's drunk already. Figures. " _You guuuuuys!_ Wha' took s'long?" She's swinging Stiles' arm back and forth, looking between them all. Scott and Stilea are a little distracted, looking around for the others, waving when they find them. "Did you find out Derek's-" Derek dives forward, a hand on the back of her head, and the other clamped over her mouth. Scott and Stiles whip back around to them, as Allison's eyes grow wide and she goes stock still.

"Don't," he says, widening his own eyes for emphasis. Slowly, he takes his hands away, raising an eyebrow. She makes a deal of locking and then buttoning and also zipping her lips before skipping over to Lydia without another word.

"What was that?" Stiles asks, incredulous, but Derek just ignores him.

"Drinks?" He says sweetly instead, marching over to the bar to order many, many shots; Scott and Stiles in tow, shooting each other questioning glances and almost tripping trying to keep up with him.

By the time they get there, he's already ordered them each a " _Monster Mash_ ", and their regular drinks. Two beers for the uncultured swines he calls best friends and a dark rum and Coke for himself. The Monster Mash, as it turns out, is _strong_. A trio of shots, meant to be taken in a specific order; first green, then orange, and finally purple. He has no idea what they are, but they make his eyes water and his throat burn. Scott and Stiles don't seem to be doing much better.

"C'mon Scotty, gotta dance," Stiles declares after their third round. Stiles leads him to the middle of the dance floor where seemingly the whole pack is waiting, and they begin to...dance. If it can be called that.

It's like he has tunnel vision as he watches them all jump and flail and fall all over each other.

He feels a little second hand embarrassment and turns back toward the bar with a laugh, downing the rest of his drink in one and ordering enough Monster Mash for them all.

It's as he is making his way over to the booth where Erica is draped all over Isaac that the song changes. And. That's his cue.

He waits, watching, leaning against the table; as Scott begins grinding back into Stiles, Stiles following his every move, the two of them writhing against each other all open mouthed and filthy. They're just into the song properly, hips rolling in unison and hands roaming to places they probably shouldn't in a place so crammed with other people, when Derek stands.

"Scott," he whispers, knowing full well he will hear it. Sure enough the young wolfs head pops up and he locks eyes with Derek, grinning wildly continuing his ministration whilst Stiles remains obliviou. Derek smirks. Keeping eye contact, he reaches for the zipper on his onesie and drags it down leisurely, an eyebrow cocked as Scott watches. His mouth falls open when he realises what Derek is doing and he goes still, slapping at Stiles' bicep to get his attention. Annoyed, Stiles stops.

"Dude," Scott says, pointing to where Derek has now unzipped the onesie as far as it will go. Stiles looks up just as Derek is sliding it off his shoulders and his jaw hits the floor around about the same time the costume does.

Derek grins at the boys twin expressions as they try and fail at a high five.

He strides over, and he knows a million pairs of eyes follow him. But he's only interested in the two right in front of him.

Stiles' appreciative gaze rakes entirely over his body, lingering on his thick thighs and crotch a moment longer as Derek reaches inside for the bow tie and collar, before their eyes meet. At the same time that Stiles cranes his neck to try to get a look at his ass and says " _Leather_ , Derek?"Scott says "Booty shorts?"

He just smirks and fastens the bow tie, waiting for them to get it. "Oh my God you're a _Chippendale_!" They cry in unison, mouths wide and eyes wider.

"You didn't really think you were gonna get your own way did you?" He snorts, turning to walk back to the table.

"Your way is much, much better, dude. I'll never question you again," Stiles shouts over the music, despite not needing to. He's excited, which is good.

"Now don't go making promises you know you can't keep," Derek chastises, bending over to retrieve the onesie, ass no doubt right in both their faces. "Come on, I've got a little something I want _you_ to wear. As payback for the onesie,"

The pair high five again, much more coordinated this time, but Derek pretends not to notice. Instead he chooses to fluster them again as he puts his hands back into his shorts to adjust the position of the key to the twin set of handcuffs that are waiting for them at home.


End file.
